


never leave you standing, crestfallen on the landing (with champagne problems)

by hurricanejjareau



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Broken Engagement, Childhood Friends, College, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, rollisi is a background ship, so is barson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:15:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29117364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurricanejjareau/pseuds/hurricanejjareau
Summary: In which you and Peter realize your feelings for each other after a heartbreak. Inspired by champagne problems by taylor swift.
Relationships: Peter Stone (L&O: SVU)/Reader, Peter Stone (L&O: SVU)/You
Kudos: 5





	never leave you standing, crestfallen on the landing (with champagne problems)

“Peter, stop pacing,” you say, standing up from his bed in his dorm room and walking to stand in front of him, being mindful of the dress swishing around your ankles. He stops walking, but he doesn’t look at you until you squeeze his arms. “Do you have the ring?”

He starts patting at the pockets of his suit, one far nicer than what most of your fellow students would be wearing to the winter formal that started in an hour. After a moment, Peter plunges his hand into one of his pockets and pulls out the ring box. He opens it, the beautiful silver ring inside. 

It’s familiar to you, it being a ring you’d seen every now and again growing up. It had been his mother’s ring, the one she’d worn until his father got her an upgrade for their twentieth anniversary, and the one Peter has always sworn he would propose with when the right girl came along. It makes you smile, the sight of it making you think of the street where you grew up, and your childhood home, which had been just a few doors down from Peter Stone.

That was how you met him, when you and your family moved into the brownstone three doors down from his. He’d come marching up to your door once he found out there was a new kid in the neighborhood (and one of the _few_ kids in the neighborhood), declaring that he wanted to be your friend. 

And, of course, it hadn’t been hard to become friends with Peter Stone. He was a charmer, even back then, and things hadn’t changed. You ended up going to the same elementary school, making the two of you grow even closer until you were practically inseparable. Then, of course, you both fought to go to the same middle and high schools. 

As you got older, and his relationship with his father more strained, he stayed at your house more often. Later and later each night, especially during the week, and almost always through dinner, at least. You did all your homework together, made class projects, then when the time came, filled out college and scholarship applications. 

You’d seen each other through it all. You’d watched him grow as a baseball player, his pitching skills earning him a scholarship to the University of Chicago, and your academics earned one for yourself. And as everyone had expected, you both packed your things and headed off to Chicago together. 

The memories of the first few weeks the two of you had spent running around the city together, exploring your new home, are some of the fondest you have. 

And now the two of you were juniors, and Peter was preparing to take a big step in his life. Well, two, actually: he’s about to sign with the Cubs, it looks like, as soon as he graduates. 

He gently closes the lid on the ring box again, sliding it back into his pocket with a deep breath. “Do you think I can do this?”

You can’t help but grin, reaching up to straighten Peter’s tie as a means to have something to do with your hands. “I think you can do anything, Peter Stone, you know that. But, yes, I do think you can do this.”

“And you’ll be there?” He asks, looking at you hopefully.

“Of course,” you reply, releasing his tie and flattening it out against his chest. “Dawson and I will be there the whole time, and so will the others.”

“And you think she’ll say yes?”

“I do,” you reply, giving him a smile. 

“Good.”

You hope Peter doesn’t notice you biting the inside of your cheek. He’s only been dating her for a little over a year (he hasn’t known her much longer than that), and something about her has never sat right with you. 

A voice calls out your name. “Are you here?”

You look to the door to see Antonio emerging from the hallway. His face breaks out into a grin when he sees you, the tie that hangs around his neck matching your dress.

“Wow, you look great,” he says, walking over to press a friendly kiss to your cheek as he walks over to the mirror hanging on the wall of his side of the room to tie his tie. 

You walk over to Peter’s roommate, and one of your close friends, turning him to face you so that you can tie it for him. Dawson lets you, knowing you just need something to do with your hands to keep your anxiety at bay. 

You and Antonio share the same reservations on Peter’s girlfriend, both of you wondering what her intentions were. She’d started expressing interest not long after the Major and Minor Leagues had started expressing their interest, and that was a red flag for the two of you. Despite how smitten Peter was, the two of you weren’t sure she shared the same feelings. 

The two of you tried to talk Peter out of a public proposal, let alone a public proposal at the winter formal. But once Peter becomes convinced of something, he’s stubborn, and very rarely will he change his mind. 

And much to yours and Dawson’s reservations, this was one of those times. 

“Alright,” Peter says, his eyes darting around the room to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything, even though he knows he hasn’t. “I guess it’s time for me to go pick her up.”

You and Antonio both give him encouraging nods, both of you giving him smiles as he nods and walks out of the dorm room. Once you feel like he’s far enough down the hall he won’t hear you, you turn to him. 

“Am I the only one who has a bad feeling about this?”

He shakes his head, his gaze shifting off to the left. “No, you aren’t.”

“But, we tried to talk him out of it,” he reminds you. “There’s nothing else we can do now except go meet Amanda and Sonny and walk to the hotel.”

You nod, knowing he’s right, and like a gentleman, he holds out your coat for you to put on, and the two of you head downstairs to find two of your other friends. 

––––

The four of you enter the ballroom, which has been decorated beautifully with fairy lights and a garland for the University of Chicago’s Annual Winter Formal. The committee always does a great job of decorating the large, two story ballroom without taking away from the beauty that was already there. 

“Is it just me, or are there less people here this year then there were last year?” Sonny asks. 

“Well, it just started,” Amanda says. 

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” you mumble, and you feel Antonio nudge you with the elbow that’s linked with yours. 

“You know I’m right,” you hiss. 

You see them, then, or more specifically, you see her. 

She and Peter met in his psychology class, and you can still remember the two of you having dinner that night and him telling you how pretty she was. How smart she was. And then, a few days later, when he finally got the guts to talk to her, how nice she was. 

And then, about a week after the rumblings had started from the agencies and the managers after a showcase game, she’d finally agreed to go out to dinner with him. Peter had been ecstatic, you and Antonio cautiously optimistic. 

You’d thought from the beginning that she was with him for his fame - his notoriety in the college baseball world and what was likely to become his fame in Major League Baseball. You’d finally confessed that to Dawson, who’d agreed. 

But you’d never tell Peter that, you’d never dare. Not when he’s so happy, so in love. 

And not while she hasn’t done anything to hurt him. 

She’s already sipping a glass of champagne, and her red dress perfectly compliments Peter’s red tie. They make a good looking pair, you have to admit, but there’s just something about it that feels...wrong. Forced, perhaps, at least within one side of the relationship.

Her smile lights up her face - Peter’s, too, as he laughs at whatever she said - and a feeling settles into the pit of your stomach. An emotion you can’t place. Is it dread? Nervousness? Jealousy?

You shove away the notion of jealousy as quickly as it comes - you know that’s not at all what it is. 

_Right?_

“Think he’s gonna go through with it?” Amanda asks, her gaze following yours and Dawson’s.

You shake your head, but it doesn't reflect your answer. “He’s Peter Stone - he goes through with everything.”

You just hope you’re wrong, and you hope that your best friend isn’t about to get his heart broken. 

––––

You’re dancing with Antonio when it happens. You look over his shoulder to see Peter grab both of her hands in his, and you smack his shoulder, hissing, “Tony!”

His head shoots down to you, his eyes widening in realization as he looks over and sees Stone. You look across the dance floor to see Carisi and Amanda watching with wide eyes. 

Peter’s nervous, you can tell. There’s more of a physical display of his nerves than usual - on the mound, he hides them. Keeps them contained behind stoic eyes and a set jaw. But at the moment, you can see the anxiety in his eyes, and in his slightly shaky hands as he starts his proposal. 

You’re too far away to hear what he’s saying when he starts talking, but close enough to see her stiffen as he does. Your heart sinks at the sight, and you watch Peter sink to one knee and pull out his mom’s ring. All the eyes in the room are on the two of them now, and you can’t help but wrap your fingers around Dawson’s arm and grip it while you watch. 

Peter asks the big question, those four seemingly simple words that when strung together make up something entirely bigger, though not necessarily more complicated. The answer to a proposal should be the easiest thing in the world, given with no hesitation. 

But at this moment, she was hesitating. 

You and Dawson had been right, at least about what you thought the outcome of tonight would be, and you’re hating it. 

You could hear a pen drop in the room, the music having been lowered as the entire room waited for a response with baited breath. 

Her name falls from Peter’s lips, trying to prompt a response for her. And he gets one, but it’s definitely not the one he wants. 

“I-I’m sorry, Peter, but I can’t. I can’t marry you.”

A few gasps arise from the crowd, and your forehead falls onto Antonio’s shoulder, Amanda having a similar reaction with Sonny. Sometimes, you really hate being right. 

The room is still silent as she runs from the ballroom, the only sound coming from the sound of her heels against the hard floors of the room. You expect Peter to run after her, but he stays in the same place, right where he’d just proposed. He’s standing now at least, not kneeling, but he hasn’t moved - he can’t.

The music slowly starts back, everyone turning away from the scene as you and Dawson walk over to him. He’s staring at the ground, the ring box still open in his hand. You reach over and gently shut it, to make sure nothing happens to it, before placing your hand on his back. 

“Do you want to get out of here? Go back to the dorm?”

He nods - barely, but it’s there. You look over at Antonio, who stands on the other side Peter as you walk him back to the dorm. Amanda and Sonny are behind you, quickly grabbing their things and exiting the hotel right behind the three of you. 

No one says a word the entire walk back to the hotel, and when you look up at Peter after a few steps, his eyes are glassy, and you have to look away. 

––––

You and Dawson get Peter back into their dorm, and you get the knot out of his tie before sneaking back out of the dorm to knock on one across the hall. 

Jay answers not long after your fist makes contact with the door, and you’re met with the sight of their dorm room bathed in a purple light from their LED light strips. As soon as his roommate, Adam, sees it’s you, he throws you a wave. You wave back.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jay says, “you look great. How was the formal?”

“Not great,” you say, biting your lower lip and hoping he’d get the message without you having to say it - he’d heard from Antonio what Peter’s plans had been, you were sure of it. 

“Wait a minute,” he says, his voice lowering and eyes widening as he leans closer to you. “Did Stone actually propose?”

You nod slowly, your lip still caught between your teeth. 

“Hold up,” Adam says, sitting up and setting down his Switch now that he’s interested. “And did she say no? In front of everyone?”

You nod again, and both sets of their eyes widen. 

“Oh, god,” Adam says, his jaw slacked as he runs a hand through his hair. 

“Shit,” Jay says, covering his mouth with his hand for a moment. 

“You guys still have that air mattress?” You ask.

“Yeah,” Jay says, refocusing and nodding. Adam’s already moving around behind him to grab it. 

He comes to the door, standing next to his roommate and hands the box to you. “Keep it as long as you need it.”

“Thanks, guys,” you say, giving them both grateful smies. “I should only need it tonight.”

You wave goodnight to the both of them, hearing Jay shut the door behind you as you carry the air mattress back to Peter and Antonio’s dorm room. Antonio’s the only one in the room when you get back, and he’s already down to just his slack and dress shirt. 

“I convinced him to go take a shower,” he tells you, and his eyes fall to the box in your hand. “You staying in here for the night?”

You shrug. “Thought it might not be a terrible idea.”

He nods. “You’re probably right. If you want to go to your floor and change, I’ll get this blown up.”

You nod, grabbing your keys and heading up to your dorm room. Amanda’s in there when you get back, wiping off her makeup as Carisi lays on her bed and scrolls through his phone, in a similar state clothing wise to the one you left Antonio in. “How’s Stone?”

“Not good,” you say with a sigh, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and the most recent t-shirt you’d stolen from Peter. “Dawson got him to take a shower, and I’m going to sleep down there if that works with you.”

Amanda nods. “Of course. Let us know if there’s anything we can do.”

You nod, smiling at them both. “I will.”

You grab your hairbrush and makeup wipes, along with a few other things from your desk so that you could sleep on Peter and Dawson’s floor. You wave to Sonny and Amanda before you leave, walking back up the stairs to their dorm room. 

Peter’s in his bed when you’re back, having stopped at the bathroom on your floors to change out of your dress and into pajamas, while also taking the opportunity to brush through your hair and take off the makeup Amanda had so painstakingly done earlier. 

He’s curled up under his comforter, facing the wall as he tries to fall asleep. You know him well enough to know that he struggles to fall asleep anyway, and that after everything that happened tonight that it won’t be anything different. 

Dawson has gotten the air mattress blown up like he said he could, and you steal one of their hangers to hang up your dress for the night. You steal some of the boys’ extra blankets from under their beds, making yourself as comfortable as you can. 

Antonio is laying in his bed, one AirPod in one ear as he scrolls through TikTok before falling asleep, and you carefully walk over to Peter. You place a gentle hand on his shoulder, and you can tell he knew you were coming by the fact he doesn’t jump.

“Do you need anything?” You ask him softly, your heart squeezing at the sight of him. 

He shakes his head, curling deeper into his blankets as you remove your hand. 

“Well, if you do, I’m here,” you tell him, even though you know he already knows that, and even though you have no idea what you can do to fix this in the first place. “Goodnight, Pete.”

––––

The next morning you wake up to the sound of drawers opening and closing. Even though whoever it is is trying to be quiet, the fact you hadn’t been sleeping well in the first place means it wakes you up.

Though your vision is still blurry, you can make out Peter’s figure moving around the room. He’s wearing jeans and a Mets hoodie, and he’s pulling t-shirts and other sweatshirts out of his drawers and putting them into a duffle bag. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight, your voice still quiet and scratchy from sleep. 

Peter’s head shoots over to you, giving you a ghost of a smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You give him a soft smile, running a hand through your hair. “It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway, but you didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m heading home for a couple days,” he says slowly, and you can tell he’s avoiding looking at you. “I bought a plane ticket last night.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” You ask, throwing the blanket you’d been using off your body. 

“I only bought one ticket,” Peter says, crossing the room to put this last pile of clothes in his bag. 

You shrug. “I could figure something out.”

He shakes his head. “That’s okay. I just...better go break this news in person.”

You nod, understandingly. You stand, grabbing your keys from Dawson’s desk and heading to the door. “What are you doing?”

You turn back to Peter. “Meet me downstairs in twenty and I’ll go with you to O’Hare, okay?”

You can tell he wants to argue, but when you lower your chin, he nods. “Okay.”

You unlock the door to your room, opening it quietly so you don’t wake up Amanda and, as you expected, Sonny, who were both lying in her bed, asleep in each other's arms. You carefully change into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, pulling on your sneakers before heading downstairs to grab some coffee from the Starbucks near your dorm. 

You get yours and Peter’s usual orders, certain that the baristas know them as soon as they see you at this point. You take them when they’re ready with a tired smile, one that no doubt matches several of the kids who’d already come in this morning. 

Your best friend is waiting outside when you get back, his duffle slung across his torso as he mindlessly scrolls through his phone. 

He takes the cup of coffee from you, nodding thankfully as he down a fourth of it in one sip. 

“Do you have everything?”

He nods, and you give him a curt nod back before you fall into step next to each as you walk to the L, getting on and riding out to the airport.

You're silent on the walk there; the only time Peter really speaks to you is when he grabs your arm to keep you from falling when the train lurches to a halt. 

When you get off at the airport, you walk with Peter as far as you can, which means you stop at security. You both stop, turning to each other to say goodbye. 

“Thank you for doing this,” he says, finally. 

You shrug. “Of course. Will you text me when you get there?”

He nods. 

“And tell your mom I said hello.”

That gets a smile from him. “I will.”

You both stare at each other for a moment, and then Peter is slowly reaching out to you. You let him pull you into him, but once you feel him bury your face in your shoulder, you’re the one holding him. Your hand moves to the back of his head, stroking his hair for as long as he wants you to. 

He pulls away after well over a minute, likely closer to two, and looks at you. His eyes linger on you for a moment. 

“You better go get in line if you’re going to make your flight,” you tell him softly, trying to avoid his gaze. 

He nods, curling a hand around the strap to his duffle. “I’ll call you when I get to New York.”

You nod, smiling at him as you give him one last hug, one much shorter than the last. You stay rooted in place, watching as he hands off his ticket and ID to the TSA agent. Just before he rounds the corner, he turns back to you and waves. You smile, waving back at him until he disappears into the sea of people waiting to be cleared by TSA so they could catch their flights. 

You’re about to turn around and leave when you get a text. You pull your phone from your pocket to see it’s from Antonio:

_Hey, wanna meet up for lunch?_

You type out a response:

_Sure. You pick where._

––––

You meet Dawson at a restaurant all of you frequent around an hour later. You both order and sit in tall chairs at the table attached to the window glass, which faced the river where it ran through the city. 

And despite the fact you’d seen Peter smiling, you know he’s not okay, not yet, and it hurts. The silence between you and Dawson, two people who usually talked a mile a minute, says he feels the same way, or at least similarly. 

“We should have talked him out of it, Tony,” you say finally, shaking your head as you take a sip of your drink. 

He sighs. “There was nothing we could do, Y/n/n. We tried, but he wasn’t going to change his mind.”

The silence falls between you again, but then he speaks again. “But, I can’t help but think we could have done more to let him know that she wasn’t in love with him, not really.”

You sigh, running a hand down your face. “I know.”

He shakes his head, dipping one of his fries in ketchup and popping it into his mouth. “It’s all just a big mess.”

“And I can’t help but think it’s my fault,” you say, your eyes gazing out the window as you lean back in your chair. “I knew from the beginning there was something off about her, but I was too afraid to say anything because Peter was so happy, and now -”

“Hey,” Dawson says, reaching across the table and laying his hand over yours. “Don’t say that. Don’t go there. None of this is your fault, it’s not even Stone’s - it’s hers.”

“I know,” you say. “It just...sucks.”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding in agreement. “Yeah it does.”

––––

A few hours later, you’re having dinner in the dining hall with Rollins and Carisi, along with two of your other friends, Rafael and Olivia - it’s pizza night, one of the school caf’s specialities, which means there’s more people in the building than usual.

“Where’s Peter?” Olivia asks, taking a quick bite of her pizza in between questions. “Has he holed himself up in his dorm room?”

You shake your head, all eyes on you since all four of your friends know you’ll have the answer. “He flew to Manhattan this morning for a few days - I think he’s going to tell his parents what happened in person. He should be getting there any -”

Your phone rings, and you glance over at it to see the familiar contact photo of you and Peter - it’s a selfie of the two of you at Citi Field from the summer, taken at one of the many Mets games you’d gone to while you were home. 

“He should be getting there anytime now,” you finish saying, laughing as you slide to answer the call. “Hey, Pete.”

“Hey,” he says, and you almost think you hear a smile. “I made it. I just got off the subway, and I’m almost home.”

“Okay,” you say, standing from your chair. You mouth, “I’ll be right back,” to the others, and they all nod. You walk over to the nearby window, giving yourself just enough distance between yourself and the noise of the other students. 

“I have no idea what my parents are going to think,” he says, and you both fall silent. If you really listen, you can hear the noises of Manhattan: the murmurs of passing conversations, the car horns, sirens. It makes you feel a little homesick, even if you love Chicago - there’s just something about New York noise that Chicago just doesn’t have. 

“It’ll be okay, Peter,” you say. “I promise. None of this is your fault.”

He sighs. “But isn’t it?”

You shake your head, even if he can’t see you. “No, it’s not.”

Peter sighs again, and you can hear the sounds of the city soften as he, likely, steps onto your old street. You stay on the line, even if he isn’t saying anything, knowing that he probably just likes having you on the phone for the time being. 

“Wait a minute,” he says suddenly. “I can hear all that noise - it’s pizza night in the dining hall, isn’t it?”

“It is,” you say with a laugh. “And you’re missing it.”

“Damn it,” he says, and you laugh, and then he falls silent again. 

You hear him take a deep breath a moment later, and you can tell that he’s stopped walking. 

He’s made it to his front door. 

“I should probably go now,” he says, nervousness seeping into his voice. “Get this over with.”

“It’ll be okay,” you tell him again, trying your best to reassure him. “Hey, do me a favor while you’re home?”

“Anything,” he says, and you can tell he’s hopeful that your favor will get him out of his house. 

“Can you go see my parents? They’ll kill us both if they find out you were in the city and didn’t let my mom cook dinner for you.”

He laughs, and it’s the first genuine laugh you think you’ve heard in the last twenty-four hours from him. “I’ll do that. I know better than to mess with the wrath of your mom.”

“You know it,” you reply, smiling and leaning against the cool glass of the window, darkness bathing the city and thousands of little lit squares dotting the view. 

“Okay.” Peter takes a deep breath. “Let’s do this. I’ll call you later if I don’t get killed first.”

You giggle. “Good luck.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Bye, Pete.”

You look at your phone for a minute after the call ends, your eyes falling to a widget on your phone screen that displays a photo of you and Peter during the trip all of you took to Navy Pier right before you’d all gone home for the summer. His arm is around your shoulders, yours around his waist, both of you laughing. You remember she’d been busy that night, citing some excuse about studying or something else. 

You can’t help but think that, in that photo, it’s you and Peter who look like the couple. It brings about a strange feeling, and you push it away by shoving your phone back into your hoodie pocket and walking back to your friends. “Sorry about that.”

“He make it home okay?” Sonny asks. 

You nod, taking a bite of your pizza, thankful it’s still warm. “He just got back to his parents’ house.”

“How do you think that’s going to go?” Rafael asks. 

You sigh. “I think they’ll be disappointed that it didn’t work out, but I don’t think they’ll be too upset. I think he’s just worried about them being disappointed in _him_.”

They nod, and Rafael shakes his head. “What a mess.”

“You’re telling me,” you say with a sigh, shaking your head. He stands up, gathering everyone’s empty dinner plates to take them to the dishwashers. He presses a kiss to Liv’s head before he walks away, and your heart melts at the little smile that blooms on her face at the display of affection. 

You and Carisi get up to grab some ice cream for dessert, and you can’t help but add carmel onto your ice cream - Peter’s favorite topping. You take a picture and send it to him. 

_Supporting you in spirit with caramel syrup. You’re welcome._

He texts back a lot faster than you expected, within seconds.

_Go on. Rub it in. You’re the WORST._

–––– 

Peter comes back _late_ on Sunday night, his call to tell you he was back waking you up in the middle of the night. 

_“Hello,” you’d answered groggily, propping yourself up on your elbow._

_“Oh, god, I’m sorry,” he’d said. “I just called to tell you I’m back - I just got into the dorm. I didn’t think about the fact I’d be waking you up.”_

_“No, no, it’s okay,” you told him, trying to keep your voice low so you don’t wake up Amanda. “I’m glad you let me know.”_

_“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he’d said. “Go back to sleep. Goodnight.”_

_You couldn’t help but smile, your eyes already falling shut again. “Night, Pete.”_

The next day, you meet for a late lunch in between your classes, deciding to go to a sub shop a few blocks away from campus. 

“So,” you ask finally, once you’ve ordered and sat down. “How’d it go with your mom and dad?”

He shrugs, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Mom’s disappointed, obviously. It broke her heart I think when I had to give her ring back. Dad was, well, Dad.”

You chuckle, knowing exactly what he meant by that. “Sounds right.”

“And your mom felt so bad for me, she made a cheesecake.”

That makes you snort, so much so you have to grab your napkin and hold it to your face. Your mom makes the best cheesecake, but she hates doing it because it takes so long and is so fickle. 

“Wow, you must have really told her some sob story,” you say, and your eyes widen. You hadn’t realized what you said until you said it. 

But then you look at Peter, and you see him looking at you with a smirk, and you know he’s not mad. 

“Nah,” he replies, “all it took was me telling her what actually happened, which I think just means the whole thing was just a major cliché.”

Your laugh, throwing your head back without caring who was listening - Peter’s always seemed to have that effect on you. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally say, unable to stop yourself, even with a lingering smile. “That was a little insensitive.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay. I mean, that is what happened, right?”

Even though he’s right, your heart aches. 

Peter doesn’t deserve this. Peter didn’t deserve to have a rejected marriage proposal in front of several hundred members of the student body. He didn’t deserve to be played and strung along by someone who didn’t love him. 

He deserves someone who will love him and make him happy, and you just hope he finds it someday. 

––––

You’re working on cleaning your side of the dorm room while Amanda’s gone trying to help Carisi study for an upcoming test when your phone rings. 

“Hello,” you say, grabbing it and answering it without even looking at the screen.

“Hey,” Antonio says, and you can hear a door shut behind him, presumably the door to his dorm room. “You busy?”

“Not really,” you reply. “What’s up?”

“Peter’s upset,” he says. “She came by and brought all his things back earlier. She was civil and everything, I think it’s just the fact this sort of makes it -”

“Final,” you say, finishing his sentence for him. 

“Yeah,” Antonio says. “But he hasn’t gotten out of bed, let alone left the dorm room since she left, and it’s getting sad.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Okay, I’ll go grab some food and go up there.”

Immediately after you order a pizza, making sure you order half with Peter’s favorite toppings and half with yours. You make sure to grab some cash as you leave your dorm, putting it into your back pocket as you walk to the pizza place on campus. You pick up the pizza and a couple of sodas then walk back to the dorm, heading up to Peter’s floor and knocking on his door. You hear muffled words from the inside, and just then you get a text from Dawson.

_Door’s open, by the way._

You laugh, shaking your head as, sure enough, you turn the door knob and the door is open.

“Hey, Pete,” you say, giving him a little smile. “I brought supper, if you want it.”

“Don’t tell me you got that gross kind of pizza you always get,” he says, his voice clearer now that he’s actually sitting up in his bed. 

“First of all, you’re the one who orders gross pizza, not me,” you reply, sitting the box on the desk and grabbing some napkins from one of their storage organizers. “Second of all, that’s why I ordered half and half.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, getting out of his bed so he could sit on the floor with you to eat - all part of your effort to try and get him out of bed. “You know I’m more than happy to suffer through your taste in pizza.”

You shrug. “This was easier than picking off everything I don’t want.”

He laughs, opening the pizza box and pulling out a slice. 

“So,” you say, your soft drink fizzing as you twist open the cap on your drink. “I heard she came by earlier to give your things back.”

Peter’s face falls, but instead of looking sad, it almost looks softer than it had before. “Yeah. She brought back a few hoodies and a couple books I’d lent her.”

You nod, watching him as you lift your slice of pizza to your mouth. Peter washes his bite down with his drink, then speaks again. 

“You know,” he says, chuckling as he shakes his head. “I think you have more of my clothes than she did.”

Your cheeks heat, and your eyes fall to the shirt you’re wearing - one of Peter’s old high school baseball t-shirts. 

“My point exactly,” Peter says, smirking. You laugh.

“You saying you want your shirts back?” You ask, challenging him. 

“I would never,” he says, then pauses for a moment. “I know better.”

You grin at him, taking another bite of pizza. 

It’s good to see Peter smiling and joking, especially when you’re able to tell it’s genuine, like you can now. You know he’s still struggling, trying to get over her and everything that happened, but it’s a start, and you know that.

And you know that you’ll be there to see it through, no matter what. 

You all will. 

“You know,” he says, his eyes falling to the floor. “She said something to me, while she was here.”

You tilt your head. “What?”

“She said that someday I’d find someone who would make me forget any of this ever happened. That I’d find someone who put my heart back together.”

Your eyes widen, and you can’t help but scoff. “Wow. That’s an...interesting way to put it.”

“Yeah,” he says with his own scoff, but then he shakes his head. “I just hope she’s right.”

You gaze at him for a moment. “She is. I mean, she could have worded it a little differently -” he laughs, “-but she is.”

“Well,” he says. “I hope you’re right, too.”

You reach over and squeeze his shoulder and your heart squeezes. You want so badly to convince him that he’ll find love again. 

And maybe, you want to be the one who shows him that love. 

––––

“I’m gonna fail,” Peter says, groaning as he leans back into his pillows and covers his face in his hands. 

“You are _not_ going to fail, Peter,” you say, rolling your eyes. 

“Nope, this is it,” he says. “I’m gonna fail out before I ever even get to law school, and then no team will ever take me.”

“Oh my god,” you say, nudging his leg before scooting closer to him. “Pete, you are the smartest person I know, you’re just stressed. I’ll make sure you pass, but it’s late. You’re exhausted. Why don’t we stop for the night?”

He shakes his head, scrubbing a hand down his face. “No, no I’ve got to get this. This is our last big test before our final and I can’t afford to fail it.”

You sigh. “Okay, then.”

You shuffle the flashcards in your hand, watching as Peter raises his arms to the sky and stretches. You laugh as you hear his back pop. 

“I’ve been sitting here too long,” he says with a scoff. 

You grin at him, shaking your head as you turn back his flashcards. “Ready?”

He sighs, his eyes closing as he sighs and props himself up against his pillows. “Go for it.”

You roll your shoulders, taking a deep breath. “Alright, then. Here we go.”

––––

The sun streaming through the window is what wakes you up the next morning, your eyes slowly opening to reveal that you aren’t in your own dorm. You hear soft breathing, and your eyes come into focus to realize you’re lying next to Peter, his arm around your shoulders to keep you pulled close to him. You don’t remember falling asleep, but you can remember Peter falling asleep about an hour after you went through the last round of his flashcards. 

It slowly starts coming back then. You can remember him pulling you down next to him, both of you laughing as he teased you over something. You’d both decided to flip on the little TV in the corner and find something to watch, Peter’s exhaustion sinking in as you find some old sitcom reruns. You’d grabbed the blanket he keeps at the end of his bed, pulling it over both of you and cuddling close to his side, telling yourself it was more for the benefit of making sure you both fit on the bed than anything else.

You prop yourself up on your elbow, looking at Peter’s face in the early morning light. He looks so much more relaxed, so much more at peace than he had in the last couple of months, even if he’s doing so much better than he had been. 

Her name doesn’t come up anymore, not often, but you notice how he tenses and freezes anytime he sees her in the dining hall or around campus. But you’d heard him laugh more often, seen his smile a little more, and everytime you hear or see either one it just makes you want to hear and see them again and again. 

You can’t help but want to be the one to put Peter back together. The one to make him happy, to show him real love, if he’ll let you. Because you love him, you’ve realized. You really do. You’ve realized it in between bringing him dinners and coffees, helping him study and trying everything to make him smile. 

You don’t know for how long, because maybe, just maybe, you’ve been in love with Peter for a long time. Longer than you know. Longer than you can ever know, because you can’t pinpoint the time your feelings shifted from being platonic to something more, but they did. 

And you finally know why you didn’t like her, why you felt like she wasn’t good for Peter, even if that had ended up being true anyway. You’d always thought she was with him for good looks, for the fame you all know he’ll achieve. You were right, they hadn’t been compatible, but you’ve come to realize that you were mostly just sad that you weren’t her.

You hear a deep breath, and it gets you out of your head. You can see Peter shifting beside you, and you lay your head back on one of his pillows so that he doesn’t realize you’d been sitting up and looking at him. 

His eyes slowly move to look at you, and he huffs out a laugh, his voice low and gravelly. “Good morning.”

You smile. “Morning.”

“Didn’t realize you’d slept over,” he says with a smirk. He can’t help the fact his smirk turns to a smile as he looks at you, your hair a mess as you rub your eyes.

“I didn’t either until about five minutes ago,” you reply.

“Mmm,” he says, nodding, his eyes then meeting yours. “So, why were you staring at me?”

Your eyes widen, and you hope he doesn’t notice your cheeks heating. “I wasn’t.”

“You were too,” he says with a grin, poking you in the side. “I know when someone’s staring at me.”

“Conceited much?” You ask, matching his grin. 

He hums thoughtfully, turning on his side to look at you, tucking his arm under his head and draping the other across your waist. “Maybe.”

You shake your head, smiling at him as you both look at each other. There’s a comfortable silence between you as you watch the other, your eyes flickering to his lips for a split second, and even though you miss it he does the same. 

Peter knows how hard you've been working to make him smile lately, and he’s grateful for it, even if he wishes you knew you didn’t have to try so hard. That just you being near him is enough. 

But he can’t tell you that. He wouldn’t want you to think you were a rebound, when you’d be the farthest thing from it. 

So he doesn’t. He just keeps looking at you, his gaze focusing intently on your eyes as he tries to memorize how many colors there are. 

And just like all the times before, he loses count. 

And then the door flies open. 

“Come on, you two!” Carisi says, barging into the room as the two of you turn to face him wearing his New York Rangers sweatshirt and beanie. “Are we going to the hockey game or not?”

“That’s today, isn’t it?” You ask, sitting up and popping your back. 

“Yeah, it’s today!” He says. “It’s the playoffs!”

“Alright, alright,” Peter says, sitting up similarly. “We’ll get ready.”

You jam your feet into your shoes as you get ready to go upstairs. Before you get out the door, Peter calls out to you. 

You turn back to him, and he has a wad of bright blue fabric in my hand. “You want one of my jerseys?”

You grin. “Duh.”

He grins back, shaking his head as he tosses you one of his Rangers jerseys. You freshen up in your dorm room, pulling the jersey on over a hoodie and swapping your shoes. You grab your coat, making one last effort to shake yourself off the thoughts of Peter as more than a friend. 

You run back up the stairs to meet the others, Amanda now also waiting outside with Carisi, and you all head off. 

“So, what happened to you last night?”

You look over at a smirking Amanda. “What do you mean?”

“You weren’t in the dorm when I woke up this morning.”

“Oh,” you say, then shrug. “I fell asleep in Peter’s room.”

She raises a brow. “You fell asleep.”

You nod slowly, confused. “Yeah. I was helping him study for a test and then we fell asleep.”

“Oh,” she says, and she almost sounds disappointed. “Okay, then.”

And truth be told, Amanda was disappointed, because she’s been waiting for Peter to make a move on you for months. Ever since she met the two of you, really, and even after he started dating her. 

And maybe this was just the push he needed. 

––––

Peter has no idea when his feelings for you shifted. He remembers having a crush on you when they two of you were younger, for a while in high school, but that had faded years ago. 

But something changed, or maybe, it was that something had never changed. Maybe his feelings had never faded after all, and maybe that was why he’d never been happy with her in the first place. He’d tried to make things work, and he’d cared for her, and it still hurt whenever she turned him down, but he should have known it never would have worked. 

Because deep down, he knew he’d never really loved her, he’d just wanted to. And when he looks back on that night from almost three months ago, he realizes that after the shock (and embarrassment) from the moment had faded, he realizes that he’d felt relieved. 

“Pete,” you say, nudging his leg with your foot as you sit at the other end of his bed. “You with me?”

Your words pull him from his thoughts, and you giggle as he shakes his head. “What?”

“What do you wanna do for dinner?”

Peter sighs, crossing his arms across his chest and looking up in thought. 

“What if we go get dinner?” He asks suddenly. His words surprise even himself, and he knew what he was trying to do - he was trying to ask you out on a date.

“I mean, that was the question,” you say, laughing. 

“No,” he says, laughing. “Like, we go to a restaurant and get dinner, not takeout. We haven’t left the dorm all weekend.”

“Because it’s been raining all weekend?” You say, your reply in the form of a question as your eyebrows furrow in amusement. 

Peter turns and looks out his window. “It’s not now.”

You look at him for a moment in confusion, then you shrug, laughing. “Yeah, sure. Why not? Just give me a few minutes to change, I guess.”

“Okay, then,” he says, shooting you a grin that could make you weak in the knees if you were standing. You swing your feet off the edge of the bed so that you could head down to your dorm room. 

As expected, you found Amanda curled into Carisi’s side in her bed, both of them watching a movie. You start looking for something to wear out, and it makes them both look up. 

“Where are you going?” Amanda asks, raising up just enough to look at you. 

“Peter suggested we go out and get dinner,” you say, pulling a sweater and a pair of jeans from one of your drawers. “You guys wanna go?”

Carisi starts to say yes, but stops when he feels Amanda’s elbow dig into his side. 

“We’re good. We’re going to call for some takeout later, I think,” she tells you. “You two have fun though.”

“We will,” you reply, waving at the two of them as you pull the door closed. 

“‘Manda, what was that for?” Sonny asks once you’re gone, rubbing his side. “I’m hungry.”

“Because,” she explains. “ _Stone_ is that one who asked her to go to dinner, _out_ to dinner.”

“So?”

Amanda rolls her eyes. “Come on, think about it! You know he’s in love with her, maybe he’s finally trying to do something about it.”

“But it hasn’t been that long since he was...y’know,” he trails, the habit of not mentioning the proposal coming through. 

Rollins shrugs. “Maybe he’s known all along.”

You meet Peter back at his dorm room once you’ve changed (and, admittedly, cleaned up a little), and you notice he’s changed into jeans and a crewneck. You throw a greeting to Jay as you pass him in the hallway on your way out, then Peter opens the door for the both of you to step out into the city. You take the L across town to one of your favorite Italian restaurants, being seated quickly at a corner booth once you arrive. 

Your conversations flow smoothly, as always, tonight’s topic being primarily what you’re planning to do over the summer, which starts in just under two months. 

He notices his gazes linger on you longer than normal, which he realizes at this point means they could probably constitute as staring. You realize you have a wide smile pasted on your face the whole time, one that only grows anytime you really look at the boy sitting across from you.

And as the conversations continue, it dawns on Peter, that he hasn’t thought about her all night. Or all day, for that matter. Or, really, any of the last few days he’s spent time with you. 

“So, are we going for season tickets again this summer?” He asks. 

You nod. “I think we should. A good Mets game is always a great backup plan.”

“Did I hear Rollins say she was coming home with Carisi for the summer?”

“I think so,” you say. “They haven’t worked out all the details, but I think she’s trying to avoid going back to Atlanta.”

He nods. “Been there.”

“And that’s why you stay at my house,” you reply with a grin. 

Peter picks up his glass, tilting it towards you in agreement before he takes a sip. 

You leave not long after your courses are cleared. Peter insists on paying for both of you, and then you’re back out into the cool night air. 

Peter sighs, his hands in his pockets as you walk side by side. “I really don’t want to go back to the dorm yet.”

You shrug, looking up at him, your stance mirroring his. “Then we don’t have to.”

He smiles down at you, and before you realize what you’re doing, you slip your elbow through his. Peter’s glad it’s dark and you aren’t looking up at him, so you can’t see how red his cheeks are. 

Neither of you have anywhere to go, nowhere to be, and you eventually find yourselves on a bridge overlooking the river. You both stand in the middle, leaning against the railing and feeling the cool air on your face. 

You bite your lower lip, wondering whether or not you should ask Peter the question that’s been on your mind all night. But, in the end, your curiosity wins out. 

“Is this a date, Peter?”

Peter’s eyes widen at your question, and you’re worried you’ve misinterpreted things until his face softens into a smile as he turns from the river to face you. 

“How would you feel if I said it is?” He asks, and this time he’s the one biting his lip. 

You shrug, looking up at him with a growing smile as you pivot to face him. “I would feel pretty good about that. Pretty happy.”

Peter’s eyes widen, and he feels like the bottom has dropped out of his stomach. But not in the way that it does when you’re nervous; when you get bad news or you realize you’ve forgotten about a test. No, it’s a feeling like the one you get while you’re sitting at the top of a roller coaster waiting for it to drop, or the feeling he gets when it looks like the Mets are about to pull through with a win.

“Oh, really?” He asks, taking half a step closer to you. You giggle and nod. 

Peter looks at you for a moment, trying to think of the right thing to say, but then he just laughs. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask you out?”

You laugh, hearing the relief in his voice. 

“Seriously,” he says. “I think...I think I’ve been trying to find a way ever since she broke up with me. And I think I’ve wanted to since before I ever started dating her in the first place.”

Your eyes widening, the words surprising you as you tilt your head. 

“I was never happy with her,” Peter tells you, shaking his head. “Not really, anyway. I think I was just trying to distract myself from the one person I really wanted to be with, because I’d convinced myself the crush I had on them freshman year had faded.”

Your eyes widen, but he can see the way your eyes are still sparkling. Still excited. He frowns, the same sort of expression in his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head before looking at him with a shy smile. “It’s just that...I had a crush on you freshman year, too, and I’m not sure it ever really went away either.”

Peter’s jaw drops, and it makes you laugh. “You mean to tell me that if we’d just figured this out sooner we wouldn’t have gotten into this mess?!”

You laugh even harder at that, and it makes Peter start laughing. 

“You know what?” You say, a laugh following your words as you try to calm yourself down. “I think I’m glad we didn’t figure it out then.”

He frowns. “Why?”

You shrug. “Because who knows if it would have worked out?”

He steps closer to you again, and this time his arms snake tentatively around your waist - you lean into his grasp, his arms tighten around you. “Are you saying you think this’ll work out?”

Your face heats at the intensity of his gaze, and your eyes dart over his face. You give him a soft smile, nodding. “I do, Peter Stone. I really do.”

And he can’t wait anymore. His hands move from your waist to the sides of your face, and he ducks his head to kiss you. You suck breath in through your nose in surprise, but then you smile, sighing as you push yourself onto your toes. You thread a hand through his hair, your arms wrapping around his neck as you try and wrap your head around the fact that you’re finally kissing your best friend. 

The rest of the walk, and the eventual walk to the dorms, is filled with lots of kisses, enough that you’ve lost count by the time he gives you one last kiss goodnight as you part ways at your floor. 

Carisi is still with Rollins when you enter, but she’s asleep. 

“How was your date?” He asks with a smirk as you drape your coat over your desk chair. 

“It wasn’t -” you start to say, out of habit, but then your face breaks out into a smile, one that you can’t hide even if you wanted to.

“Hold on,” Carisi says, shifting carefully so that he doesn’t wake up his girlfriend as he stands. Your brow furrows and you frown as he steps in front of you. He frowns as he looks at your face. “Is your lipstick smudged?”

Your fingers raise to your lips on instinct. “I mean, we had dinner -”

“Uh-uh,” Carisi says, shaking his head, a smirk blooming on his face. “I have sisters, I know the difference. You kissed Peter, didn’t you?”

You press your lips into a thin line, trying to hide your smile, but you know he sees right through you. 

His jaw drops and his eyes light up, and he goes back to Amanda, shaking her awake. “Babe! Get up!”

She groggily sets up, running a hand through her hair. “What?”

He pulls her from the bed over to you, and you roll your eyes. Sonny points to you, your lips specifically. “Look! Her lipstick is smeared - you know what that means.”

She squints, and as soon as she realizes he’s right, her eyes widen - she’s wide awake now. “Oh my god, it is. Did Peter finally make a move?”

Your efforts to hide your smile are futile, and she gasps happily. 

“Finally!” Amanda says, pulling you into a hug. You laugh, squeezing her back as Carisi grins. 

“It’s about time,” he says. You can’t help but grin, because you feel exactly the same way. 

After they both calm down, they go back to laying in bed and watching whatever movie, and you shower and change into your pajamas. When you get back to your dorm and grab your phone from your bed. When you unlock it, you see a text from Dawson. 

_You and Peter?? For real??? Did it finally happen??_

You bite your nail, smiling as you cheekily respond:

_Antonio Dawson, I don’t kiss and tell._

He responds instantly: 

_You don’t have to - Peter’s stupid grin did it for you. For what it’s worth, he hasn’t stopped smiling since he got back._

He sends another message:

_I’m happy for you two idiots._

You’re about to reply when you get a message from Peter. 

_How about another date tomorrow? Wherever you wanna go, whatever you wanna do._

You grin. 

_Absolutely._

__––––_ _

__Your hands run through Peter’s hair, your other hand playing with the soft gray knit of his our pullover sweater as his head lays in your lap. You’re alone in your living room, the soft light from the Christmas tree casting a soft glow onto his features._ _

__“I love you, Peter Stone,” you say, your hand sliding down his chest to grab his hand, pulling it to your lips so you can press a kiss to his knuckles._ _

__He smiles, and hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart is beating. “I love you, too.”_ _

__Your gaze focuses back on the TV, the one softly playing a Christmas movie, but his gaze never leaves yours as he tries to work up the courage to do what he’s about to._ _

__He can’t help but feel nervous as he tries hard not to think about the last time he’d proposed to someone. How poorly it had gone, which is part of why he’d decided just to propose when the moment felt right over Christmas break. And unlike the last time, he feels confident in what answer he’s going to get, but he still has a sick feeling in his stomach._ _

__He lets his hand fall so that it brushes his pocket, making sure the ring is still there. He’d decided he didn’t want to propose with his mom’s ring after what had happened the last time, and they’d gone ring shopping while you were home for Thanksgiving. He’d been worried it would break her heart, but she was just thrilled he was going to ask you to marry him._ _

__He sighs deeply before sitting up. You chuckle. “Where are you going?”_ _

__“Not far,” he says with a grin. He turns to you, grabbing your hands in his and giving them a squeeze._ _

__You brow furrows, and you tilt your head to the side, gazing at him softly. “What?”_ _

__He looks down for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. But when he looks back up at you, all his nerves fade away._ _

__“You know, I never thought I’d get here,” he says, shaking his head. “And I don’t mean because of everything that happened necessarily, I mean because I’m here with you. I could have never fathomed that you would ever feel the same way as I do, and I never thought I could be so happy.”_ _

__You smile at his words, your eyes feeling a little watery. Peter takes a deep breath, then slides off the couch and onto the floor, getting on one knee. You gasp, the corners of your lips tipping up in a grin, your eyes looking brighter than he’s ever seen them._ _

__“I’m just going to get to the point,” he tells you, looking over your shoulder to see your parents watching from the doorway, and his parents next to them._ _

__Your name leaves his lips, and his soft gaze meets yours as he releases one of your hands to open the ring box. “Will you marry me?”_ _

__You nod, too happy to even speak as he slides the ring onto your finger. You slide off the couch and onto the floor next to him, throwing your arms around his neck as you kiss him. He chuckles happily into the kiss before pulling away, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulls you flush against his chest._ _

__Your hand cups the back of his head, holding him tightly as you wrap your head around what just happened. Those four simple words, posed in the form of a much bigger question, resulted in an answer that was the easiest you’ve ever given._ _

__And Peter doesn’t think he’s ever felt so happy, ever felt so much joy. Not as he kisses you again, as your parents and your friends, come flooding into the room with excitement. Not as his dad pops a bottle of expensive champagne, pouring everyone a glass as they toast the two of you._ _

__You’re the only girl he thinks of now. You’re it for him, now and forever. He knows you’ll never leave him standing in the middle of a dance floor, not that he’s ever really been worried about that with you. You aren’t going anywhere, and neither is he._ _

__His arm slips around your waist, and yours does the same to his as you lean into his side, looking up at him happily. He leans down and kisses you again, unable to help himself._ _

__You’re the thing in life he loves the most, and he’s forever grateful to you for that. You’re his everything, and he knows that he’s never going to leave you, either._ _


End file.
